


If You Stumble...

by Anika_Ann



Series: Errare Humanum Est [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alright There Might Be Some Tension, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Attempt at Humor, But Until That It’s Like Pure Fluff I Swear, Cute, Dancing, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, I Don’t Think ‘Mature’ Is Enough for the Last Chapter, Post-Avengers (2012), Reader-Insert, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, Sassy Steve Rogers, Self-Indulgent, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, explicit-ish, steve rogers is a sweetheart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-05 23:57:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19051096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anika_Ann/pseuds/Anika_Ann
Summary: ...Make It Part of the Dance.In which you ask Steve what your date would look like if you lived in the forties. He decides to show you instead.There are few flaws, holes to see through to glimpse beyond that illusion. But what life would be besides boring if everything was perfect? Perfect dress. Perfect date. Perfect gentleman…?Works as a standalone too.





	1. Step One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starring: innocent questions, soft, witty and badass Steve, unfazed Fury, likeable Agent M and Tony being a surprisingly good bro.

It was an innocent question really, or you thought so.

Steve was walking you home after date number seven – officially anyway, with how attached you became to your phone, you might as well say you were on a one never-ending date, only taking a time-out when sleeping –, talking about everything and nothing. You had been bowling, your idea after you had found out he had never played before and yet he handed your ass to you, kissing it better (kissing your _loser’s_ _pouting_ better, not your _bottom_ , you still weren’t there).

“So… you got a taste of 21st century date. What dates looked like in the late thirties and forties?” you hummed, glancing at him curiously as you walked side by side, hand in hand.

You purposely didn’t ask him about dating in ‘his time’; despite him telling you he wasn’t fully accustomed to 21st century, you couldn’t see it 98% of the time. He belonged here as much as he had probably belonged back there.

“Hm…” Steve mused, apparently giving it serious consideration and you smiled for yourself, wondering if he was thinking about an ideal date he would come up with in the past. In the end, he shrugged. “Dancing was popular back in the day. Music and dancing. Going to pictures too.”

He fell silent then, not elaborating, seemingly lost in thoughts. You leaned into his arm, guilt settling in your stomach. You hadn’t meant to sadden him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, earning a confused glance. “I didn’t want to… poke at sore spot.”

He blinked and you could almost hear the wheels turning in his head as he shook it and stopped in his tracks – hence preventing you from continuing your gait too as his fingers were still interlaced with yours. His free hand cupped your cheek and his lips found your forehead first before pecking your own.

“You didn’t,” he declared, giving you a half-hearted smile. You looked up into his eyes, knowing for sure he wasn´t telling the truth, and raised an eyebrow. His smile grew more sincere after that, his thumb stroking your cheek softly. “I promise.”

You sighed, but shortly met his lips once more, letting it go and obediently started rambling about your first experience with bowling.

You knew Steve wasn’t quite listening, mostly because when you stopped talking, he didn’t react. You spent the rest of the walk in silence, him lost in another world and you mentally kicking yourself with vigour, anxiety twisting your insides. You hated you had made Steve brood.

_Stupid, stupid woman!_

With Steve having been absent-minded for the past few minutes, it took you off guard when you reached your building and he suddenly tugged sharply on your hand, forcing your body to spin, and caught your mouth in searing kiss.

You blinked, shocked, gripped his shoulders to maintain your balance, but soon let yourself melt into him, relaxing into the kiss that set you on fire despite not expecting the lunge. His fingers curled around your nape, his tongue dancing with yours, stealing the air from your lungs and effectively making your bones turn into goo.

Your head was spinning by the time his forehead rested against yours, your lips parted, unable to form words. Steve tenderly caressed your nose with his.

“Let me take you out,” he breathed out, making your eyes, fallen shut at some point of his ministration, snap open. Baffled chuckle escaped you at the request.

“What?”

Both of his palms framed your face as he stole another kiss, this time softer, soothing. He was smiling, his eyes twinkling with something that brought the butterflies in your stomach to life.

What was he talking about though? Did you miss something? You thought you were _dating_. Wasn’t going out, spending time together, kinda the point? You’d admit your brain was floating a bit thanks to his unexpected display of affection, but you weren’t _that_ out of loop, right? Why would he ask that?

“Let me take you out,” he repeated, voice firmer. When you inspected his face for any hint of what he meant, still confused, he finally clarified. “You said I had a taste of 21st century dating. Well, I’d like to show you a bit of the old Brooklyn charm.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, threatening to burst at the sweet suggestion. You observed his expression for a long time, seeking any trace of the idea bringing back painful memories, regret of unfulfilled wishes of the past, but you saw none. He radiated nothing but hope and eagerness.

Your lips unwittingly spread in a smile wide enough to tear your mouth.

“Really?” you checked carefully, his barely audible ‘yeah’ brushing your lips. “Then yes.”

You didn’t think his expression could light up more, but clearly you were wrong. He rewarded you with another breath-taking kiss, lifting you few inches above the ground, which made you giggle.

Was it possible to burst from happiness? You were feeling pretty close to that, the L word threatening to roll off your tongue. You barely held it back, but still did, worried it might ruin the moment shining with delight.

“Okay. Thank you.”

He pressed one more firm kiss to your forehead, himself grinning like a fool, and set you back on the ground. You didn’t want to say goodbye, but you knew it was inevitable. He had told you he was heading out for a mission in the morning; simple one, he had claimed, but he still needed to get some shuteye.

Looking up to him seriously, you pleaded him to be careful and stay safe. He promised to do so, the giddiness not quite leaving his aura.

You found yourself falling asleep light-hearted, leaving worries for tomorrow.

\---

Steve finished the mission the very same day he left for it. The relief washing over you was way bigger than you were willing to admit; to be fair, Steve may have been slightly more hurt than he was _willing to admit_ , so you called it even. He also insisted on ‘taking you out’ on Saturday, knowing too well that kind of talk would distract you from your fretting. Lovable bastard.

He said he would let you know the details during the week.

And he did. Those were seemingly random bits of information slipped into your conversations; _wear a dress._

_Don’t do any exercise on Saturday._

_I have a meeting before that I sadly cannot escape, but I’ll pick you up at half past seven._

_You’ll probably want to have light dinner before the date._

It was only one piece of info at time and you could hear the mysterious smile in his voice every time he refused to tell you more. To be fair, you had a good idea of what was going to happen. You were going dancing. Which was a bit funny and bit intimidating, because you had already tried something that might resemble that activity on his birthday and your technique definitely needed improvement. However, you trusted Steve; if you were about to make an ass of yourself, he would make sure it was in private at least.

Then the last piece of information came when you were talking on Friday night: _wear dark nylons._

“…what?”

You had thought your outfit through; you were making your best effort to look a bit like the women of the old days, but not overwhelmingly so for Steve. To say you were surprised by his request was an understatement; you would have never imagined Steve would want you to wear anything in particular and you had no idea what to think of it.

“Just do, please?” he pleaded, the trademark smile of past few days no doubt creeping into his tired voice. The upcoming meeting had been keeping him busy, you knew that much if only because you had managed to meet for lunch once and that was it, but tonight, he sounded just _exhausted_.

You bit your lip when an idea on raising his spirit occurred to you.

“So… is that a practical issue or is it simply something you like on a girl?”¨

It worked. He chuckled, surprise and disbelief colouring his next words.

“Doll! Come on!”

“What?” you asked innocently, laughing at his exasperation. He was blushing. You were sure of it. “Alright. I’ll make sure to dress to your liking, Mr. Rogers.”

“Not to be too daring, but you’re being mean today.”

“Are you complaining?”

He sighed. “I guess I’m not. I hate to say goodbye, but I gotta go.”

You huffed, knowing he must have had tons of work still ahead.

“Okay. It was good to hear you, Steve. Take care? I’ll be thinking of you so you survive… figuratively speaking!”

“I’ll try, doll,” he reassured you and you imagined his smile turning tender. “Hey, I… I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. I miss you.”

Your heart swelled in your chest, happy grin finding its way to your face.

“I miss you too, Steve. I-“ _love you_ “-I can’t wait. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

He ended the call and you whined, hiding your face in your palms. The urge to confess your feeling was getting stronger each day. If he wasn’t going to tell those words soon, you might actually slip. Would it be so bad, though? If you said it first? Hard to tell.

With a determined huff, you made your way to the bathroom, wanting to wash away all the worries in the shower stall.

Well. You could at least try.

\---

You were giving your make-up the last touch when the ring echoed in your apartment. Slow smile spread on your lips, as finished, grabbed your purse and a thin sweater and nearly ran downstairs; well, as much as one could run in heels.

When you opened the front door though, you were met with an unfamiliar dark-haired man in a suit. He stood straight, hands by his sides, face serious, but inviting.

You frowned. Who the hell was he? Why was he here? _Now_ of all times.

You were just opening your mouth to ask when he beat you to it.

“Madam. I’m here to give you a drive to your… date,” he informed you formally, wavering a bit at the end as if he didn’t know what the proper word was. It had you frowning harder, a chill of fear creeping up your spine. “Captain Rogers got held up in the meeting and asked me to pick you up.”

Your suspicion spiked. Yeah? And why didn’t he let you know?

“And who you might be?”

“Apologies, madam,” he swiftly pulled out a simple and very familiar card from the front pocket of his jacket. You squinted at it. “Agent Morales of SHIELD, at your service.”

Was he… was he really showing you… that?

“Why are you showing me your driving licence?” you asked, perplexed. What the hell? Either this was a bad guy with zero experience or he was simply an idiot.

A smile played on his lips when you looked up at his face. “Captain Rogers said you’d be able to see if it was fake unlike with our service badges.”

For few moments, there was deadly silence between you. You stared at the licence in front of you, surprised he actually handed it to you to inspect it. You only needed seconds to tell this truly was George Morales’ proper driving licence. Still, you watched it a little longer, unable to form words.

And then you burst out laughing, the tension in your shoulders easing.

You gave Agent Morales his card back, the amusement on his face not escaping your notice. Turned out he wasn’t an idiot in the end; he was just victim of Steve’s wit, not that he seemed to mind. It had been a short and unpleasant talk with Steve, about someone possibly wanting to get to him through you if they knew you were dating – or worse, actually knew about you being his soulmate – and it was followed by longer, not any more appealing talk encouraging you to be slightly paranoid.

So you were. Nevertheless, this man definitely convinced you he had been sent by Steve.

Agent Morales beckoned to a car with dark windows standing nearby.

“Shall we?”

You only nodded in response, unable to hold back another chuckle as you climbed in the back, silent ‘wow’ escaping you when you saw the black leather of the seats.

“Can I ask what held him up?”

“Meeting, madam. If I may… people in high places can be rather insistent.”

“Yeah, I bet…” you murmured, trying to contain the shadow of sadness at not seeing Steve just yet.

One hand on the wheel, the agent offered you his phone. You tilted your head in confusion, but accepted it. There was an unmistakable triangle in the middle of the black screen – a video to watch, you realized.

“What is it?”

“The gathering is at the Tower. We were informed that everything will be recorded. Mr.Stark was generous enough to provide me the footage for you,” he explained, but you weren’t sure what exactly it meant.

“A footage of what?”

You caught his grin in the rear mirror. “You’ll see, madam. Let’s just say I watched videos of Captain Rogers in the field-“ _Well, at least someone did._ “- and training, but this is the most badass thing I saw him do.”

Your eyebrows shot up at the informal language he used and you tapped on play.

The frame was rather small for such space of the conference room, but you could easily recognize Steve and Tony siting at the table as well as a black man with an eye patch – what the hell – and three more men in suits; Agent Morales by the door and two sitting at the table, looking like very important people you wouldn’t want to cross paths with.

It was Tony’s cocky voice you heard first. _“Look, just because you said-“_

He was interrupted by an alarm beeping and everyone’s head snapped Steve’s direction, while he straightened and slipped his hand to his pocket, pulling out his phone and silencing it.

Your breath hitched for two reasons; firstly, did he really set an alarm to… what, tell him it was time to get ready for a date? That was incredibly sweet. Secondly: fear. Was he about to get in trouble for that?

“Oh, that’s nothing. Wait for it,” the agent uttered, a knowing smile in his voice.

 _“What the hell was that?”_ the ‘eye-patch’ man demanded, sounding more annoyed than exasperated.

Steve rose to his feet. _“I gotta go.”_

Your hand shot up to your mouth. Oh. _Oh, Steve._

 _“I beg your pardon?”_ one of the suited men hissed.

_“Excuse me, I need to go.”_

_“You have a hot date or what?”_ the black man asked and… did you see a smirk on his face? No, must have been your imagination, there was no way you could see their facial expressions, the screen was too small for that.

Tony in the video snorted.

_“As a matter of fact, sir, I do.”_

“Oh my god,” you muttered into your palm, hearing real-life chuckle from the driver’s seat.

“Gets better.”

What?!

One of the intimidating white men in expensive suit rose from his seat, leaning onto the table as if he wanted to intimidate Steve. Ha, he wished. But worries twisted _your_ gut. Was Steve getting into trouble for this? It didn’t look like it, judging by Agent Morales’ amusement, but still.

 _“This is a matter of national security! It holds the greatest importance!”_ he sputtered, his face getting a shade of red.

 _“With due all respect, Senator Brendon, so does she,”_ Steve announced evenly.

Your jaw fell into your lap, your eyes going wide and filling with tears under the wave of emotions hitting you. You gasped, staring at the device in your hand, blinking.

Did he… did he really just say that? To _Senator’s_ face no less?!

Clearly, the men in the room were equally shocked – and not nearly as moved as you were.

_“You’re not leaving this meeting just so you can meet your girl-toy and get la-“_

The Senator never got to finish the sentence that immediately struck you with humiliation and indignation. You only blinked, wondering when exactly Steve had moved to have the man pinned against the table, hand twisted behind his back, hissing furious words, voice like venom.

_“Do **not** talk about her like that!”_

Despite the horrifying situation, the picture was almost funny. Why? Because Tony was calmly examining his nails as if _they_ were holding great importance, the other senator’s face was terrified as he jumped back, the black man only had his eyebrow raised and… Agent Morales stood by the door, seemingly unfazed as well.

You paused the video, unsure you wanted to see the rest, your mind racing.

“Weren’t... weren’t you supposed to… I don’t know, draw a weapon at that point?” you asked, overwhelmed.

That would make sense, right? Make sure the senator didn’t get hurt by an angry soldier? _Supersoldier,_ but whatever.

“Probably. Honestly though? He deserved it and a punch to his face on top of that. Please, finish it, madam. It’s just few more seconds.”

The respectful ‘madam’ sounded incredibly out of place as he was being brutally and possibly unprofessionally honest. You obediently resumed the video, eyes still wide.

 _“Well. Now that we established that Senator Brendon is an obnoxious ass,”_ Tony hummed, his voice carrying a surprisingly sharp edge, making your jaw fell lower.

What the hell was he doing speaking like that to a senator?! Also, was he defending you? _Tony Stark,_ who seemed to never run out of double entendre when you were around, always poking your intimate relationship with Steve? Colour you impressed and shocked once more.

_“Can we send Agent Morales to drive Captain Rogers’ very much **respectable** woman for their date and then finish the meeting real quick so we can go separate ways? Cap, let go of him, please. He needs that hand to sign lots of useless papers.”_

Tony Stark just became your best friend. And you started hating politician more than you had until now, but that was beside the point.

 _“Good plan, Stark,”_ the eye patch man stated calmly, eyeing Steve who was still literally breathing to Senator Brendon’s neck. _“Captain?”_

Steve reluctantly released the man, watching him like a hawk. You tried to hold back the smile at him defending your honour, but it was really hard.

_“Let’s get this over with. Agent Morales?”_

_“At your service, Captain.”_

Steve wrote down something for him then – your address, you presumed, as well as the point of meeting – and told him to show you his driving licence. You looked up and met the agent’s smile at that.

The last words before the video ended were from Tony.

_“Agent Morales? Jarvis will send something to your phone to entertain Cap’s lady when you’re driving her. Be so kind and treat her with respect unlike some people in this room who didn’t seem to move on from pre-historic view on female population. She’s a good and brilliant woman.”_

The agent in the footage nodded as Tony did something on his phone and then the screen went black.

You had to fight tears now, silently staring at the phone.

“Sorry about hearing Senator Brendon. But I think the rest was quite spectacular, wouldn’t you say, madam?”

You choked on a laugh, too many emotions swirling in you.

“Yeah. I’d say.”

You wondered what you should give Tony for being such an incredibly kind advocate for you; given the fact he could have everything in the world with the billions he had on his account, you decided you would just had to settle for a hug.

As for Steve…. well. You weren’t sure if it was wise to bring it up in the first place. You decided to act after you would see his mood. You definitely wanted to show gratitude though.

The rest of the drive was spent in silent awe.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be ‘the First Time’ fic, mostly plotless smut. Somehow it’s growing into a full story…? There are like… things happening? Oops.  
> Still, the fic is spectacularly self-indulgent. You’re welcome? :D
> 
> P.S. – Feedback's always appreciated.  
> Love, AA


	2. Step Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring dancing, stumbling, tons of fluff and some sexual tension if you squint.

You had enough time to process what you had seen in the video, pulling yourself together, getting excited about your special date again. Agent Morales was a good driver, his skills allowing you to relax in your seat, a smile finding its way to your lips.

By the time he pulled over, you couldn’t get out of the car fast enough – yet, someone beat you to opening the door, a hand being offered to assist you when stepping out.

One brief glance at the man and you were smiling even wider, accepting the hand.

“Madam,” Steve greeted you softly as you climbed from the car.

He looked amazing. You had seen him in a suit before, but this one was… different somehow. It might have only been due to the decorative handkerchief in his front pocket and the wider tie with a knot you weren’t seeing too often these days. Steve had his hair combed to side, old-fashion hair style, but it seemed as a bit of a clumsy job. While his appearance wasn’t exactly the same you were used to, the warm twinkle in his eyes remained.

“Captain Rogers,” slipped through your lips as you heard it too many times from your driver, making your soulmate blink in surprise, his shoulders tensing.

He gulped, his gaze shifting to the man who got out of the car.

“Captain Rogers,” he echoed.

“Thank you, Agent Morales. I realize this is way below your pay grade.”

The dark-haired man grinned. “Believe me, Captain, I had much worse assignments. Definitely with less pleasant company too. Enjoy your evening. Madam,” he nodded in goodbye and you reciprocated the gesture, doors shutting.

You were left alone with your companion, face to face with the most handsome man you had ever met.

“What is the plan for tonight, Captain Rogers?”

Steve licked his lips, apparently catching your amusement when you saw him squirm a little under the title. This was the second time you called him his rank since you met – and both were today within this minute.

He composed himself fast enough though. “Madam. Seeing as we’re about to spent an evening together, I believe you can drop the formalities.”

Using his opportunity as he still held your hand, he kissed its back, his gaze never leaving your face. For some reason, you found it as adorable as… sexy. There, you said it. The way he looked, the demeanour… it made things to your core.  Gentleman Steve was your new kink, though that could as well be because of Steve himself and your pilling sexual frustration with this man. And the fact you had fooled around a bit before and you knew the gentleman could vanish with a little effort, nearly tipping over the borders of politeness even.

“Mr. Rogers it is, then?”

“If you wish so,” he smirked and followed by offering you his elbow to lead you inside…whatever this was. He addressed you with _Miss_ and your last name then and you bit your lip at the shiver it sent down your body.

Why was it affecting you this much tonight? You had been playful like this before.

“Yes, Mr. Rogers?”

“You wouldn’t know how to dance foxtrot, would you?” he asked nonchalantly, a spine-melting smile spreading on his lips when he saw the answer written all over your face, excitement lighting up your expression. Guess he couldn’t see the twist of your stomach, the little insecurity,reminding you that you weren’t the best dancer in the first place, taking too long to learn the simplest steps. You shook your head. “Swell. We’ll learn together then.”

\---

The dancehall Steve led you in was… stunning. Not vast, which suited the fact there were only five other pairs in the room, one of them clearly being professionals judging by their choice of clothes; your lecturers.

The parquet floor appeared to be polished just minutes ago, nearly reflecting the lights. The interior was subtly decorated, stripe of weak light bulbs, the old-looking ones that you only knew from pictures, always lining out the title of movies outside of cinema. Several Chinese lanterns were hanging from the ceiling, drowning the room in moody crimson. You half-expected a band dressed in white tuxedos standing along the wall, but there was only table with a gramophone; the room was too small for that, you assumed. It still stole breath from your lungs as you casted a glance at Steve, absolutely astonished.

What… how… _how?_

He leaned to your ear and for a second you thought he was about to break character and explain. He did only one of those things.

“You’d be surprised at what people enjoy these days, miss. Little trips to the past every now and then…” he hummed indefinitely and you just shook your head, unable to respond.

Guess he wasn’t wrong. It still astounded you; how had he found the place? And how had he managed to accomplish the lack of staring from the other attendants?

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, in Charles’ dance hall. Tonight, we’re starting with foxtrot,” the man you had previously identified – correctly – greeted you. “As I see several new faces here, I’d like to remind you what is the most important part of making the dance resemble a _dance._ Your stance. The way you hold yourself.”

Well. Now you knew why you never had been good at dancing.

He demonstrated the starting position with the woman in lovely flowing silver dress. You gulped and tried to imitate her.

Yours and Steve’s feet lined up, your bodies below your waists rather close. His wide palm sat between your shoulder blades, perhaps an inch lower. Swallowing your panic when meeting his reassuring smile, you reluctantly leaned back into his touch.

“The key of course, is also partnership. Ladies, I need you to trust your partner and lean some of your weight onto his hand. He won’t drop you. Lean backwards a bit, tilt your head back slightly and turn your head an inch to your left. You’ll be watching your left upper corner, just in case you’d like to escape there.”

You chuckled at the silly little joke, the tension falling from your shoulders. You _knew_ Steve wouldn’t drop you; but there was a difference between leaning onto his body as he held you and practically turn aside from him.

“I wouldn’t drop you, miss. I promise,” he mouthed and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

Well. You didn’t really have a choice, did you?

With a deep exhale, you followed the lecturers’ example. Steve seemed perfectly content, not even a trace of strain on his face as he supported your weight.

_Of course, you dummy, he can probably lift a car or something. **One-handedly**._

“Eyes to your left, lady in blue.”

You bit your lip when you were called out, but obeyed. It was dizzying, but you could tell it was mostly because of the foreign and very ridiculous fear of letting Steve take control.

 “Perfect. Now, let’s move to the actual steps…”

\---

The _actual steps_ weren’t that hard; at least the basic ones. Yet, you and Steve both listened and watched intently, trying to absorb all the new info.

Steve’s fingers wandered from time to time though. He would toyed with the hem of your dress, or gingerly brushed his fingertips along the ends of your hair. They were the most decent touches, absolutely innocent, but they were driving you crazy, incredibly distracting. It wasn’t an unpleasant distraction, it was the sweetest torture, making your insides deliciously warm, but god, you knew you would become mad with want until the night was over.

You had no freaking idea what was wrong with you tonight.

But Steve looking good enough to eat? Not helping.

The good-mood lightning? Not exactly helping either.

Steve’s touches? Not helping at all.

The indulgent smile on his face and the yet indefinable spark in his eyes resembling mischief? Really fucking _not_ helping.

There was a break for ten minutes, to help you catch your breath, but Steve’s presence made it difficult. He bought you a soda, handing it to you with a polite smile, quickly retreating when his fingers brushed yours. As if it was _inappropriate_ or something.

“Thank you, Mr.Rogers.”

“My pleasure, miss,” he murmured and you wondered if he was aware of what he was doing to you.

The more he avoided touches to act like a gentleman, the more you craved them. You were probably pathetic, but your body didn’t seem to care. You held your own – you reserved your touches as well. It was a bit maddening that he didn’t seem bothered by it as much as you were.

The real test of your skills came when figures were added to dancing. You felt like you nearly mastered the basic steps, which of course, led to learning more difficult combinations. Natural Turn was alright, just like the Reversed one. Hell, you managed even the Feather Finish or whatever the name was. Then came Waves, which was… okay.

Except it was followed by all of those things combined together in certain order. You felt like your hemispheres were on fire.

It was inevitable, really.

You mixed up the steps, feet tangling together – you were pretty sure you tripped over Steve’s too, because his feet naturally continued their _right_ path – and you were falling, closing your eyes in anticipation of the impact.

Except you barely swayed.

Steve’s hand simply brought you closer, pushing you to his body so you stood upright again, stopping his movements just to hold you. With that, his face got really close all of sudden, his breath tickling your mouth, his warmth and cologne enwrapping you.

You slowly blinked your eyes open, meeting his bright eyes with only a shadow of concern. Christ, he was so handsome. You could feel his muscles this up close and you wanted to run your hands over them, to see what it would do to the good-natured blue and green of his irises, to feel his breathing pick up if you used your mouth to explore them.

“You alright… miss?”

You breathed in shakily, your lips parting. Your whole body buzzed, the almost-fall forgotten at instant, replaced by unbearable urge to steal a kiss. A very, very long kiss with tongue and wandering hands. You swore your heart was trying to beat its way out of your chest.

“Y-yes,” you stammered, licking your lips. Steve’s eyes flickered to follow the movement with his gaze, but swiftly snapped back to yours, a faint smile spreading on his face as he eased his hold.

Really? _Really?!_

“Told you I wouldn’t let you fall. Let’s join them at some familiar figure, shall we?”

Your brain was a scrambled mess, heat pooled in your belly, but you nodded, forcing your mind to get straight.

Dancing now. Foxtrot. Horizontal tango might come later. Ugh…

To your surprise, you actually managed to dive back in, the catchy tunes entering your body and leading you through. You practiced the combinations some more, your feet finally getting the message, growing familiar with how one step followed another, turn after turn, figure after figure.

You weren’t warned it was the last song of the evening until it ended, your dance finished without a single fault, resulting in delighted grin on your face. Finally allowed, your gaze left the left upper corner and shifted to Steve as you straightened.

You were taken aback when he didn’t quite mirror your expression. His eyes were on you, yes, bright and full of wonder, but only subtlest smile on his full lips.

“What is it?” you whispered, partly because you were worried people might hear, partly because the atmosphere didn’t feel like it should be disturbed by loud voices. Peripherally, you noticed the couples were wrapped each in their own bubble as well. _Good._

Steve lowered your joined hands to your side and then let go of, his fingertips running up your arm, shoulder and neck, ending with his thumb tenderly brushing your cheek.

You were embarrassed at what the innocent touch did to you, but that was of no importance. Steve’s gaze was, growing serious, yet remaining soft, just like his voice. 

“I… I thought I’d fit in here better than into today’s world,” he spoke lowly, his smile widening a fraction, a tiniest shake of his head following as if in disbelief. “But it turns out I just fit with you.”

Snap. Shot right through your heart, knocking air from your lungs. Your lips parted in silent shock, your bones melting as you understood _why_ he was looking at you like that.

Oh, _oh, heavens._

“Steve…” you whispered, touched by the sweetest words, the genuine and endless affection in his expression. He didn’t seem to mind the slip of his first name. This was beyond some little game. This was so, so much more true.

“I love you. I know it might be too soon to say that and you don’t have to say anything in return. I just think you deserve to know how special you are to me,“ he continued softly and your whole world begun floating.

_He loves me._

A tide wave of delight washed over you, the blue and green of his irises drowning you. He loved you. This incredible wonderful human being loved you.

 _Yeah, you should have probably figured that out by now. You saw the video,_ little voice in your head supplied and you had to admit it wasn’t wrong.

_‘This holds the greatest importance!’_

_‘With due all respect, Senator Brendon, so does she.’_

The familiar pressure of unshed tears assaulted your eyes, your whole being, your very soul moved beyond words.

“Oh Steve, I love you too.”

The whole room seemed to light up and disappear; Steve’s smile turned blinding, his thumb grazing your lips. Oh, how you wanted to kiss him, to _feel_ he loved you as he claimed.

Someone cleared their throat rather loudly and your private bubble burst with a deafening _pop_. Your head snapped their direction, only to see the dance teacher with the corners of his lips twitching.

“Madam, sir, I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave. We’ll be shutting lights for the day.”

You blinked in confusion, looking around; everyone had left already. You were the only pair remaining.

“Sorry,” Steve murmured, releasing you so you could gather your stuff, the little purse and thin sweater, only to throw both over your shoulders hastily.

His previous words still echoed in your ears like the most beautiful song ever, your heart happily singing along. He _loved you_.

“No harm done. Enjoy the rest of your evening,” the man wished you with a nod and Steve offered you an elbow on your way out. You accepted it, wishing to melt into him completely instead.

Only then you noticed it; was that a leather jacket on his arm? You frowned, but kept your mouth shut until you exited the building.

Steve beat you to speaking. “I hope you aren’t too tired, miss. We have one more destination.”

Your head snapped to him, caught off guard. Would he ever run out of surprises tonight? They had been all very pleasant, some more than others (he loved to too!), but you would be perfectly fine just going home for the night. And preferably take him with you to cuddle him to sleep. Or something else; not that he would be up for _that_ , clearly, with his whole _‘miss’_ thing and everything.

“We do?” you asked, curious smile on your lips.

“Yes. Don’t worry, though, it’s not far. Wouldn’t want you to walk for long in those shoes.”

God bless him.

Truth to his words, after less than five minutes you found yourself entering a cosy diner, slightly cheesy blue and pink interior with matching seats. The place was half-empty – or half-full, hard to tell – despite the late hour, a woman behind the counter instantly spotting you and following you with her gaze as Steve led you to a boot.

“After you,” he beckoned to the seats, gentleman all the way.

“Thank you, Mr.Rogers.”

He smirked at that, apparently content you had slid right back to your act. On the inside, you couldn’t decide whether you should keep trying so hard or simply let it go and show him that you wanted his old self back; the Steve Rogers you had met was charming enough, even though you couldn’t deny the appeal in meeting this one.

Given the fact it was after eleven, your usual bedtime nearing, you weren’t really hungry. While Steve ordered a burger, you only went for a milkshake. Even on the first glance, you could tell it was one of the quality milkshakes, recipe from the times when people didn’t count every single calorie.

“Oh, oh _wow,”_ you muttered when that thing landed in front of you together with polite ‘enjoy’.

“They’re good,” Steve assured you with a grin, waiting for you to eat – well, drink – first. “Trust me. I made my research before taking a swell dame like you here.”

You bit your lip at his words, touched and amused at the same time.

“Did you, Mr. Rogers? Do you realize that drinking this should be a crime? Especially at this hour? It’s a sugar bomb.” His face fell despite your playful tone and you decided not to torture him – not in a way that would make him feel miserable anyway. “And I’m gonna enjoy every single drop of that.”

You took the straw between your lips, giving an experimental suck, meeting his gaze that seemed to be locked on you.

Heaven exploded in your mouth. Yeah, screw this, you deserved some sugar after all the heavy work you had done on the dance floor. You might have moaned a little at the sweet taste, because Steve’s eyes darkened, his tongue darting to lick his lips. You fought a smirk, confident you had a pretty good idea of what crossed his mind when seeing you like this.

If he could torture you with his gentleman act, you could draw your own weapons. You fingers went to adjust the straw delicately, your eyelids fluttering close. Hearing the little choked noise he released was about as delicious as the milkshake.

“You were right. It’s pretty good,” you exclaimed. Steve’s wide pupils hypnotized you and you grinned, nudging him with your foot lightly under the table. “You should start eating, Mr.Rogers.”

“Right. Right. Glad you like the... the milkshake.”

“Oh, I do. I really, really do.”

\---

Of course, Steve Rogers was a freaking bastard and he always had an ace in his sleeve, even when it came to causing cardiac arrests to his soulmate.

He paid for your food and drinks, because of course he did, but that wasn’t it. Nope. You left the diner shortly before midnight, that damn leather jacket of which you still had no clue what was for on his arm. It didn’t make sense; you would expect him to offer it to you, but you thought the actual chivalry was in offering a dame something he actually wore at the moment, showing her comfort was more important than his.

And then you saw the motorbike he had led you too and literally everything clicked into place. Including the dark nylons; he wanted at least _something_ to cover you when you straddled the bike, sitting behind him.

Oh. _Oh shit._ This was going to be death of you. You were suddenly very grateful for the choice you had made with your dress. Despite knowing what a ride like this would do to you and your filthy brain, you wouldn’t miss it for a world.

“May I give you a ride home, miss?” he asked with a grin, eyes sparkling happily when he saw your jaw fell.

“Yes!” you blurted out before your brain even processed what he was asking.

He held out the jacket for you to slip in, the warm material immediately enwrapping you. It smelled like leather and Steve and you inhaled more deeply, letting the sensation overwhelm you. Your imagination not so helpfully supplied you with Steve wearing the leather jacket, cocky smirk on his face and jerking his head, inviting you to sit behind him on the motorcycle.

Yes, you were definitely about to die and you weren’t thinking road accident.

“I have no helmet for you, but you have my word – I’d never let anything happen to you,” he declared as he stood at your back, his lips nearly brushing your earlobe, voice an octave lower than before and heavy with a promise.

You were dead. Murdered on spot. With unfairly wet underwear on top of that. _God help me._

“Do you trust me?” he whispered with barely audible hesitance.

You gave a firm nod, snapping from your haze.

“Good. Come on.”

He straddled the bike – oh, how your mind hadn’t done him justice, the reality was much more destructive to both your heart and underwear, and he wasn’t even wearing the leather jacket –, beckoning for you to join him. You reluctantly did so, your thighs linked with his at each side. Your heart was beating its way out of your chest, hammering rapidly, and you were sure he would be able to feel that if you wrapped your arms around him – which was pretty much a necessity.

He glanced at your over his shoulder, a smile that was simultaneously sweet and wicked at the same time on his lips. Smug bastard, reading you like a book. What had you done to anyone, ending up with a soulmate like that?

“I’m gonna need you to hold onto me,” he informed you gently and you took a deep breath, leaning onto his back.

God, he was warm. And muscular. So very muscular, which was no news, but _God_. You bit the inside of your cheek when you imagined just how perfect sensation you were about to have under your palms. Steve’s hands took your wrists with care, placing them on his middle, letting you feel his perfect front.

“Hold onto me _tight_. Can’t have you falling off, doll,” he whispered, the pet name rolling off of his tongue with indulgence and you couldn’t tell whether it was on purpose. But it only fuelled your illusion of him being the bad boy of ol’ Brooklyn, sending a shudder through your body. You obeyed and placed your cheek against his back on top of that. It drew a satisfied hum from him, one you could feel in your bones as it vibrated though his chest. “That’s better. Can you keep it like this?”

You gulped. “Yeah. Yeah, I can.”

_But I can’t promise I’ll ever let go._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **My Brain:** Alright. We’ll summarize a nice date (because Steve’s sweet like that) in about two paragraphs and-- okay, fine, who are we kidding, it will probably take like 1k words, but that’s okay, we can work with that…. and then there will be their first time, the main focus of this fic.
> 
> _-7k words later, have not even started with the funny business yet-_
> 
>  **Word Counter:** You were saying?
> 
>  **My Brain:** Shut up. …it’s all foreplay, can’t you see…?


	3. Step Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part is even more self-indulgent than the previous ones. Also, somehow this chapter alone has over 6k and I don’t know how the f* that happened… try to enjoy? O:-)
> 
> P.S. - since I haven’t written something like this for a while… please, be gentle?

Climbing off Steve’s bike was one of the hardest things you had ever done. Not because of the physical exertion, that was basically non-existent, but you found it impossible to let go of his waist and give up the pleasant feeling of intimacy your position provided.

With your cheek still pressed against his back, you could feel his muscles shift first when he moved and uttered the words over his shoulder, offering you a marvellous view of his perfect profile, strong jaw, full lips and majestic nose.

“I think this is the part where you need to take your hands off.”

You peeked at him from under your eyelashes, barely withdrawing your head. “Do I have to? I don’t wanna.”

You only saw half of his face, but you were sure he didn’t bother with raising both corners of his lips anyway and charmed a lopsided smile for you. One of his hands let go of the handlebar, gently covering yours on his abdomen.

“Well, we need to tuck you to bed before curfew, Miss Trouble,” he challenged you cheekily, carefully prying your fingers open, freeing himself of your hold.

You grumbled; you didn’t resist, but you didn’t help him either, making him work your fingers off one by one. You felt like a child clingy of its mother and the thought caused you to chuckle.

“You’re not gonna make it any easier, are you?”

“Nope,” you grinned, though when he was done with your fingers, you obediently threw your leg over the back of the bike, climbing down.

Once again, you were offered a flawless image of Steve on the huge machine and just like when he had encouraged you to sat beside him, your gut curled into a pleasant knot; the air of a bad boy caused by the association with a motorbike in your head, combined with his boy-next-door smile and handsome face and physique simply did something to you on visceral level. The fact you were still wearing his jacket and you knew exactly how it felt like sitting behind him only made it more spine-tingling.

“No goodnight kiss?” you pouted and Steve shook his head, incredulous.

“I was going to. You’re just too impatient,” he scolded you lightly, following your example and stepping down, his palm cradling your jaw at instant, the blue and green of his eyes hypnotizing you.

Oh you were totally hypnotized and under his spell alright. Especially when his gaze flickered to your lips to hint his intentions. You tried your best to wait for him to kiss you, but god, did you want to be the one to finally erase the last distance.

Eventually, when you thought you might actually combust with all the anticipation coiled in your belly, holding your breath in awaiting, he ducked his head and his lips met yours in a feather-light touch. It was a gentleman’s kiss, careful and tender, and if it was the first time he had kissed you, you would have loved it.

Who were you kidding; you still did, even when you craved so much more. The gentle way his lips caressed yours had your bones melt, butterflies in your stomach clipping their wings wildly.

He withdrew torturously slow, his upper lip stuck a bit on your lower as if not wanting to part. You didn’t dare to open your eyes, his warm breath still tickling your mouth. His thumb stroked your cheek, his nose teasingly caressing yours and you were sure he was smiling, content how breathless he made you.

“Goodni-“

It was pure instinct. Your hand flew up to grab his nape to keep him in place, your mouth catching his one more time, finding it spread in a lazy smile. That bastard knew _exactly_ what he was doing to you, but you couldn’t say you minded the smugness for once. You just wanted some cooperation and reassurance you weren’t completely alone in this.

You got both.

His demeanour changed instantly, his fingers on you sinking deeper into your hair while his free hand went for your hip, sliding skilfully under the hem of his jacket. His lips parted, claiming your mouth in a way that was surely not suitable for the gentleman he was being tonight and you gladly relented, passing the wheel to him.

His arm shifted, sneaking around your waist and holding your close, his tongue teasing your lower lip. You didn’t bother fighting the shiver it sent through you. The whole evening of carefully guarded touches had driven you insane – you wanted his hands on you, you needed to taste him until you turned dizzy and you needed to be as close as if you wanted your body merged with his; completely.

The thought didn’t even startle you and you gripped on his shoulder, turning your head to free your lips, which clearly surprised him.

“Would you come up?”

His chest heaved, brushing your cheek with every exhale, his whisper deliciously hoarse.  “That’s not very proper for a lady like you. Definitely not a gentlemanly thing for me to do.”

You licked your lips. “Will you be upset if I say I don’t care much?”

“Not really.”

“Then let’s agree that the forties date ended with your little goodnight kiss, alright?”

“Good plan.”

You framed his face and sought his lips with yours again, an open-mouthed kiss that had you both clenching your fingers on each other. You tugged on the lapels of his suit jacket then, urging him to follow you. His hand covered yours as he retreated and you eyed him, baffled.

“What?” you breathed out.

“Are you sure?”

Despite the anticipation building up in your core, the undeniable heat, your lips curled up in a smile, touched by the sentiment.

“Very much, Steve.”

“Alright,” his lips brushed your temple before he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards your building with an echo of your giggle.

Not for the first time, you thanked heavens for the benefits your office provided; your rent was still high, but bearable, your apartment was tiny, but it was your own space. You absolutely wanted your own space and tonight more than ever.

Steve made you practically run upstairs. Three sets of stairs in heels were hell, but the giddiness he was for some reason radiating was infectious. You were dead on your feet by the time you reached your floor, but Steve easily made you forget that when he pressed you against the wall by your door, making it impossible for you to unlock.

You giggled again, letting his mouth devour you, his fingers flexing on your hip as you blindly searched your purse.

“Steve,” you chuckled when his lips moved on and brushed a ticklish spot under your ear. “We need to get inside, otherwise— ah- Mrs. Tittle-Tattle from 3B blabs it out to the whole office.”

You could feel his smile as your voice wavered at one particular touch of his lips, no doubt saving that information for later to drive you crazy.

“Well, we can’t have people talking about you, doll,” he murmured, clearly amused and you wondered when had he become such a cheeky tease.

You shoved him away lightly and he obediently stepped back for your benefit; finally digging out the keys, you unlocked the door and stumbled in. You were surprised he didn’t follow closely behind you. You spun in the tiny-ass hall, confused and suspicious expression on your face.

Steve was watching you, his eyes roaming all over you, strange glint in them. A dangerous smile spread slowly on his lips as he stepped in.

“The jacket looks really good on you,” he praised, biting the inside of his cheek.

The look on his face had you hot and bothered in second – not that you hadn’t been before. But now… you felt truly wanted. Desired. _Attractive_.

You took a step closer to him, searching his eyes, before shooting him a brief smile and leaning closer; only to extend your hand and push the door close. You whispered to his ear, the confidence you could thank only him for still raging in your veins.

“Thank you. But it’s yours. I think you should take it back.”

You swiftly retreated with a self-indulgent smile, throwing a wink over your shoulder as you made your way inside of your apartment, discarding your heels and purse on the way.

It took him a whole half minute before he removed his shoes and caught up with you, his arms wrapping around you from behind, pulling you up and flush against his chest until your feet dangled over the floor.

“That was very cheeky, doll,” he informed you sweetly and you burst out laughing.

You had no clue how he did it, but suddenly his hands were gone, your body was flying and spinning, a yelp erupting from your throat, and the next thing you knew, you were back in his embrace, facing him, your heart threatening to escape your ribcage. Your toes were barely touching the floor.

“What the hell was that?” you asked breathlessly, only to get a grin in return. You just gaped. “When on Earth did _you_ become so cocky?”

“Since I met you,” he announced swiftly, catching your lips in a searing kiss.

Your palms framed his face, trying to deepen the kiss as if it was possible. You tilted your head, accomplishing. You were practically breathing each other as your fingers tangled in his strands which desperately needed haircut if he wanted to preserve the military look. You weren’t complaining, delighted you had something to grip at. Your belly was searing hot with want when one of his hands slipped under your bottom, raising your even higher.

 _Holy sweet Jesus,_ you wanted him so much. If your body wasn’t deceiving you though, you could feel that so did he. Trusting him not to drop you, you experimentally rocked your hips against his.

His chest vibrated, whatever sound he released swallowed by your mouth. Oh, your body definitely wasn’t deceiving you.

Steve’s lips withdrew, slowly lowering you back to the ground, allowing his hands to settle on your hips. You were both fighting for air, his forehead against yours, his eyes snapping open and meeting yours. His pupils were blown wide and you could only guess yours looked the same.

“May I help you with your jacket, miss?” he panted, sending a delicious shiver running down your spine.

“Will I get to help you with yours?”

“If you insist.”

One corner of your lips rose involuntarily at his quick response. He pecked your lips and retreated, his deft fingers drawing the zipper of his leather jacket down. Then they travelled to your shoulders, pulling it off, taking your useless thin sweater with it; the items hit the floor with a muffled thud. Steve’s eyes never left yours and yet, you would swear they darkened as if was seeing something he liked immensely.

You licked your lips when his gaze appreciatively roamed your whole body then.

“You’re beautiful. Absolutely stunning,” he rasped, his Adam’s apple bobbing and you breathed in shakily, for whatever reason turning shy at the compliment. “I’m the luckiest guy ever.”

“You’re also the guy who’s overdressed,” you muttered, casting your gaze down.

To cover your sudden embarrassment, your hands went for his jacket, adding to the pool of fabric on the floor. He waited for you to undo his tie as well with surprising patience. Only when it was done, his fingers circled your wrists, causing you to look up.

His expression was softer now, tender smile playing on his lips. He brought your right hand to his mouth, gently kissing your palm.

“It’s almost like you don’t believe me,” he noted lowly, repeating the action with your other hand. “Guess I’m gonna have to show you.”

And just like that, with his intense gaze boring into yours, your courage was back.

“Oh, a part of you is showing me pretty nicely.”

His eyes widened comically and laughter erupted from his chest, his hands releasing your wrists.

“You’re unbelievable,” he chuckled, his palms on your face at instant, pulling you in for a kiss.

You grabbed his collar in return, tugging on it so he would follow you. Your feet tangled in the clothes on the floor, but he was quick to catch you, once again lifting you and doing the walk by himself. The blatant display of strength and reflexes had you sighing into his mouth and your fingers worked on the buttons of his shirt to appreciate his muscles properly.

He kicked the door shut blindly when he reached the destination, his hand moving from your face to the lower part of your dress, lightly tugging as if in question. The moment you pulled it up a bit, his palm was on your bottom, jerking you up and leading your thighs to wrap around his middle, while his other hand literally just _rested_ on your lower back for better balance.

Oh wow. Okay, he was a quick learner. He was holding your whole weight on one arm and holy shit, did it do things to you, your mind filled with mouth-watering images of him taking you against the wall. You did as he wordlessly asked you, pressing against him perhaps more than was necessary. He released a silent whine at the contact, obviously as happy about it as you were. You rolled your hips, your hand flat on his chest, sliding lower with each button your free hand undid.

“You’re such a troublemaker,” he hissed into your mouth, spinning on his heels and walking backwards to your bed, carefully sitting down with you still in his _arm_. You moaned into his mouth when he used the hand on your bottom to pull you impossibly closer, only to let his other hand wander to your inner thigh; even over the fabric, his touch sent an electrifying jolt down your spine.

You were sure you would go mad before the night was over. It would be completely his fault and you weren’t about to complain.

“You’re the one to talk.”

You pushed the shirt down his arms, sparing generous amount of time admiring the muscles here, your breath hitching when you felt them move as he stripped the sleeves completely. You barely noticed his hands left you with how swiftly they returned. You couldn’t but run your palms over his skin, feeling the heat he was radiating. You were not ashamed to admit you were utterly fascinated by his body… and especially by his abs.

His body was absolutely unreal – and for some inexplicable reason, it carried _your_ mark. Your fingers brushed the words before placing a kiss over them, your lips drawing a path to his throat then, eager to touch as much as they could.

His cologne tickled your nose and you were done for, your hips rolling on instinct, delighted at the hiss that escaped his mouth before he stuck his fingers under your chin and kissed you soundly. It was nothing more but a kiss and yet it left you with a need to bathe in a holy water when his hands sneaked under your dress, to your waist and higher.

“Can I-“

Instead of an answer, you helped him to pull your dress over your head. The fabric caught in the few pins you had in your hair, but Steve’s skillful fingers freed it easily, together with your hair, suddenly cascading down your neck.

His hands froze and he licked his lips when he saw the black lace covering your breaths.

So maybe you had been planning ahead, just to be sure. Judging by the way his pants seemed way tighter for him now, it was appreciated. You felt like a goddess under his gaze _burning_ with desire.

Yet, he took his time, his index finger brushing delicately over the swell of your breast. His voice sounded a bit strangled when he whispered.

“You look… really nice.”

You chuckled breathlessly at how he moved from ‘beautiful’ and _‘stunning’_ to _‘nice’_ , but the expression on his face told you that he was too _stunned_ to come up with bigger words.

“Thank y-ahh-“ you gasped when he placed an open-mouthed  kiss to your cleavage and you lost your train of thought.

He glanced up at your face from under his eyelashes, seemingly innocent but obviously oh so content.

“This okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s okay,” you choked out, grinding your hips against his when his lips moved to the hem of the fabric of your bra, a tiniest dart of a tongue following. _“Jesus,_ Steve…”

You arched your back when he met the motion of your pelvis this time, moaning into your skin. If he kept that up, you might as well come just from this.

You barely noticed when he unclasped the bra, however you were _very much_ aware of his mouth closing around your nipple, his content hum lost in your shaky moan. His fingers rubbed tiny circles on your hip and inner thigh, torturously close where you wanted them the most. Not that there was lack of friction with how rock hard he was. Or with the way his thighs felt when his quadriceps clenched.

“S-steve,” you crooned, your voice barely audible.

“Mm-hm?” The tiny vibration against your sensitive skin made you only gape and your eyes fluttered close. What were you saying again?

 _Oh, that’s right._ “Too much clothes.”

He was indeed marvellously overdressed. Seriously, it must have been uncomfortable, especially the pa-- his tongue lapped on your nipple, followed by a careful nibble of his teeth before he moved to your other breast and you almost forgot what were you saying. _Again._

“You attached to those pretty nylons?” he murmured, his hot breath teasing your skin.

“N-no?”

“Good.”

The next thing you knew, the thin fabric was ripped in several stripes, few of them barely hanging on you, merely below your knees.

You probably shouldn’t have found it so hot, but you did.  Though there was something seriously wrong with him, because really? This move of his provided your brain few seconds of clarity, your fingers falling into Steve’s hair, pulling him away.

“I wasn’t talking about _my_ clothes.”

His smile was positively innocent and boyish in a stark contrast to his heavy-lidded eyes.

“Forgive me?” he whispered, kissing your shoulder, his fingers getting more and more daring. “Let me make it up to you?”

He bit gently on the very same spot he had kissed and you were thrown back to your haze, your hands finding the hem of his pants. Well, if he wanted to make up for it…

As if he heard your thoughts and didn’t approve, he gave a sharp thrust of his hips, his teeth sinking deeper. The sensations combined caused you to see stars. His fingers slipped under the hem of your panties, matching the bra now discarded on the floor, and caressed your clit along with another roll of his hips.

 _“You’re so pretty,”_ his lips moved to your earlobe, whispering a delicious secret. _“I want to see you come undone first. Can I, doll?”_

If you weren’t so lost to his fingers, lips and absolutely _sinful_ motions of his hips, you would have been embarrassed at the noise that bubbled in your throat at the words, making you clench your thighs around him tighter, meeting his movements halfway as he added pressure on your sensitive bud.

 _“That’s my beautiful doll, all mine,”_ he muttered, placing an open mouthed kiss to your soulmark, nearly tipping your over the edge just then. His finger became frantic, his other hand kneading your breast. The knot in your core was too tight, so, _so_ close to being undone. Your nails dug into his sides, but he didn’t say a word of complain, his mouth swallowing your whimpers instead.

Your thighs shook in anticipation, causing you to falter in your rhythm.

_“Such pretty girl. Let me see you.”_

A smart flicker of his finger did it and you threw your head back in ecstasy.  It washed over you like a tide wave, jolt of warmth flowing through your veins, coming back to your core as Steve worked you through it, his hands growing gentler.

You came down from your high painfully slowly with Steve peppering your exposed throat with tender kisses. You still fought for air when your hand slid into his locks, bringing his mouth to yours. You could feel his smile and retreated, curious what was funny. You really hoped it wasn’t you.

He looked positively sinful; lips kiss-swollen, hair dishevelled, cheeks pink, pupils blown to the point it barely showed his irises. His smile was full of awe as he threated his clean fingers through your hair.

“You’re marvellous, darling,” he revered, running his thumb faintly tasting of _you_ over your lower lip. “Absolutely breath-taking.”

You lowered your gaze, at both his compliment and the new pet-name. He made you feel like you _were_ that just a moment ago, but a little bitchy voice in your head screamed at you not to believe him, because he was only seeking a good time. Every guy who had sweet-talked you like this had only been looking for a good time.

They had never taken care of your first though. And they definitely hadn’t been Steve Rogers. Your eyes roamed his face full of sincerity and your heart swelled.

“And you’re unreal,” you choked out, your throat dry – had you been loud? You would have noticed it you had been screaming hoarse, right? In order to take his face in both of your palms, you had to let go of his torso-- and _holy shit._

“Oh my god, I’m sorry!” you shrieked, horrified. It wasn’t that terrible, but had you seriously left ten half-moons on his hips as a perfect mark of your nails when clinging to him?

Steve chuckled, the sound fluently drifting into a moan when the vibration sent a wave of delicious friction through you both.

“I’ll live, doll.”

Your head was still swimming in the afterglow, but there were few things that were clear. Firstly, you needed to take care of his rather urgent problem and you would be happy to do so. Secondly, you definitely didn’t have enough of him for tonight. And lastly, if sex – that technically hadn’t even happened yet! – with Steve always was like this, you were the luckiest bitch on Earth.

You slowly leaned closer and sank your lips into his, taking care to make sure your hard nipples brushed his chest; it caused you both to shiver. Your fingertips soothed the angry marks on his skin simultaneously with your tongue meeting his.

“How unladylike of me…” you withdrew an inch and breathed into his mouth, his lips following on instinct. It made you smile, your confidence fully back. You had power over him now and it was dizzying. “Can I make it up to you? What would you like me to do?”

A nearly pained sound left his lips and you soothed him by licking into his mouth again. His hands were firm on your hips, fingers clenching at your words. He didn’t answer verbally and you bit on his lower lip before retreating again.

“Should I use my fingers…” You revelled at the chocked noise bubbling in his throat and demonstrated the lightest caress over the marks, “…stroke it better?”

“Doll,” he growled and you couldn't help but giggle. You felt giddy. Powerful. Sexy.

You both knew you weren’t talking about stroking _the traces of nails_ you left behind. You moved your lips to his ear, returning the favour – read _torture_ – you had been exposed to.

“Or should I just… kiss it better with my mouth?”

Your head spun with the light-speed movement that followed, your back pressed to the mattress, heavy warmth hovering above your body he caged between his forearms.

You panted at the sudden change; Steve’s face was inches from yours, eyes dark.

“You’re such a goddamn tease,” he stated, kissing you silent when he registered you were about to respond.

With your mouth occupied, you used your hands instead, finally unbuttoning his pants, shoving them down enough to set him free, only his underwear remaining.

He huffed and rolled off you to strip his pants completely, kicking them away. You rose to your elbow, grinning down at him as he was laid on his back.

“Who said I was teasing?” you challenged with the most innocent smile you managed to charm. Your fingers walked down over ribs to his navel, slowly descending until his hand caught your wrist. Your head snapped back to his, the hunger in his eyes flooding your already soaked underwear. “I was perfectly serious. Just say which you want.”

“You realize you’re playing with fire, right?” he hummed, whispering something that sounded a lot like _fuck me_ when you kissed the patch of skin between his navel and his boxers. You smiled and did it again, this time with little sucking.

You were on your back at instant, Steve’s incredible strength and agility showing again. This time, he wedged his knee between your legs, lying some of his weight on your body. You loved it.

“Uh-huh.”

“I’d like to be inside before I shoot off, doll. You’re making it really freakin’ difficult.”

Oh, he really walked into _this_ one. You weren’t afraid you might hit a sore spot, which was the last thing you wanted – to hurt him in any way; with how quickly he always seemed… _ready_ for action, you weren’t worried you might bruise his ego though. Maybe just tickle it a little, provoke a reaction. You trusted him to be careful and it made you want to test his limits, push few buttons, force him into letting go a bit.

God, Steve was right, you were a troublemaker.

“Why? We have all night,” you smiled up at him, incarnation of innocent confusion. “Or are you worried about you’re refractory per-“

You never got to  finish the sentence. 

He shut you up with his mouth pressing to yours, his tongue practically shoved into your mouth when you smiled wider at your victory.  He gripped your hips strong enough to cause a bit of pain, but bearable, his mouth claiming every inch of yours, your body pinned down.

This shouldn’t turn you on, except it did and you didn’t care if it seemed wrong.

When you thought you might actually suffocate unless he set you free, he withdrew and moved to your throat, instantly sucking and biting. Your panties mysteriously disappeared from your legs.

_Holy shit._

“I’m on pill,” you panted. “And clean, just in case you d-“

He bit down harder, your hips bucking in response.

“Good. Then I can show you how wrong you are.”

The premise caused your thighs to clamp around his leg and hiss a breathy _yes_.

“Might need to get you ready for a bit,“ he whispered in warning, nibbling on your ear, his fingers slipping between your soaked folds with satisfied chuckle. “This is nice. All for me?”

His underwear was gone in second, the head of his member nudging at your opening, causing your breath to hitch, because _shit_ he might be bigger than you had thought and yeah, you might need _a bit_ more preparation.

The whimper that escaped you was nearly embarrassing, more so when you could feel Steve’s smile against your throat. You were the one at his mercy again, because _god,_ you wanted him. Every. Last. Bit. As if he heard your thought, he distanced himself just enough to remove that sweet connection. You bit your lip hard, hypnotized by his dark eyes boring into yours. He was smiling as if he was ready to eat you alive.

Oh, _oh…_

His fingers stroked you again, catching on your still oversensitive clit, sending a shot of heat through your whole body.

“Should I use my fingers, stroke it better?” he echoed your earlier words, a glint of dark satisfaction, delight he could see you squirm as your teasing backfired.

You swore you couldn’t breathe when he placed the briefest of kisses on your lips, only to drag his mouth down your front in a torturously unhurried line. Your chest heaved, your throat dry with anticipation. Oh you knew what he was gonna say and perhaps demonstrate next and you weren’t sure you could take it without losing your mind.

“Or should I just… kiss it better with my mouth?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, not needing to see him; the sensation of his tongue on you was enough to drive you wild. You clutched the sheets with a silent cry, streak of pleasure ripping through you. He wouldn’t even have to try hard if he went for it; you were already halfway to your second peak and he barely put his mouth on you.

Yeah, you totally deserved to be tortured like this for pushing his buttons alright. But the warmth of his breath as he chuckled, his fingertip teasing your slit, that felt like heaven and hell allied.

“Or maybe… both? If that’s okay with you?”

 _‘If that’s okay with you?’_ Was he insane or simply craved to hear you say it?

His palms caressed your inner tights, his lips brushing the junction of your hip and leg

“Doll? Tell me,” he coaxed, his mouth sliding lower, sucking a mark of possession. Still, his voice softened, actually _asking you._

The knot in your abdomen loosened slightly and you eyed him, finding adorably ruffled hair and a pair of dark blue eyes staring back. Your fingers found their way to mess with his locks even more, aching to do so.

“All yours,” you choked out, earning a squeeze on your thighs. It dawned on you only then that this was your first time and he was already diving all the way in, no pun intended. You bit your lip, suddenly self-conscious. “But you don’t have to-“

His eyebrow rose at that and then a spark of mischief glistened in his irises. “Do I look unwilling, doll? I’m actually pretty eager to find out how long do _you_ need to recover…”

He had the nerve to wink at you and before you could as much as gape at him, his tongue licked a stripe up your folds and your hands fisted in his hair at the ecstasy it sent through your veins, your voice catching in your throat.

 _“Shit, Steve!”_ you cried out when his tongue found its way in, hitting a sensitive spot you hadn’t known you had. Satisfied, he lapped at it again, pushing your thighs further apart for better access. You honestly didn’t think he needed _anything_ better, certain you’d lose it if he just kept doing that.

Which he didn’t. He moved up, sucking at your clit while his fingers danced by your entrance. You saw stars behind your eyelids, feeling them in your veins.

“Eyes on me, darling.”

Your eyes automatically snapped open the same moment his finger entered you and his mouth returned to his ministrations. The sight of him between your legs, his lips around your bud, was so dirty it nearly sent you over the edge. Combined with the delicious stretch when he started slowly thrusting and the sensation on your clit, you knew you only had seconds and tried to hold it as long as you could.

You never stood a chance.

The addition of a second finger had you calling out his name, your second orgasm ripping through you with devastating force. You might have clutched your thighs together when lost to the pleasure; you wouldn’t know. You were lucky enough to scream ‘ _Steve’_ , because you had trouble remembering your own name.

Your whole body was shaking as he slowly pumped you through it in steady pace, every motion flooding you with ecstasy. It was as if he knew you better then you knew yourself, stopping when it became too much for you.

In your haze, you saw him… yeah, you saw him lick his fingers clean, because why the hell not, the biggest gentleman you ever met looking like he didn’t want a drop to come to waste, which _terrible pun_ , and the thought of being the only one to see him this _filthy_ caused your core to clench again; you had to bit your lips hard so you wouldn’t cry out.

Steve stretched by your side, running his fingers through your hair. When had you let go of _his?_ You blinked heavily, completely sated. The smile on his face was a mixture of tender and wolfish and you had no idea how that was possible. Not wasting time wondering about it, you reached for him, pulling him in for a lazy kiss, his body instinctively scooting closer. God, now you had everything you needed.

_Almost._

You never were a selfish lover or you liked to think so. Hell, most of the time, you had been the only one giving something. Just because Steve was apparently a gem among men – that previously gained knowledge of him only stretching to another area, intimacy –, it didn’t mean you would leave him unsatisfied and aching. You were pretty sure that it actually did have to hurt him at this point.

“Tonight seems quite unbalanced,” you muttered, throat still dry, tongue heavy.

“How so?” he asked, grinning against your mouth. He hissed when you made your point by brushing your fingers over his cock. “You complain?”

You chuckled at the smugness. “Nope. But I might start to worry my concerns were justified.”

“ _Christ_ , woman. I’m trying to give you time to recover.”

Your eyes, full of delight and challenge, bored into his as you licked your lips.

“ _Or_ you’re bullshitting me and once you’re finished, all the fun will be ov-“

He shut you up with a bruising kiss, swallowing your laughter and moved to hover over you once more, fingers of one of his hands delicately curling around your throat in case his mouth wasn’t enough to silence you and _holy shit,_ that you didn’t see coming.

“You’re so freakin’ mouthy,” he growled to your lips, “I really do have to prove you, don’t I?”

It sounded almost like a threat, just like his strong hand still rested hazardously around your throat. Yet, excitement was the only thing you felt.

You knew Steve was still very much in control. You were absolutely certain when his hold on you eased, his hands moving to balance himself better and line up himself with your core.

“I’m counting on it,” you breathed out, staring at his parting lips when the head of his cock made contact with your soaked heat once more.

His eyes fluttered shut and you actually felt tears in yours at the beautiful picture of him getting lost to that sensation, the long eyelashes of his casting shadows on his flushed cheeks, his mouth impossibly red and swollen.

Even when knowing he would be nothing but thoughtful despite his menacing words, the careful and unhurried way he was sinking home still surprised you. The stretch was a pure bliss, drawing content moans from your lips, encouraging him. And yeah, he was really frigging big; fully in, you felt you could barely breathe, but you loved every inch of him filling you.

He bottomed out then, causing you both gasp, and started slowly moving.

“Good. Unless you tell me to stop, I’ll keep showing you…” he muttered to your ear and you couldn’t help but find the closest patch of skin to kiss and sink your teeth in, because of the delight your connection offered you, because of the promise you more than appreciated.

Each of his next words was accented with a thrust of his hips, quickly working you up again.

“All.”

“Night.”

“Long.”

\---

Steve hadn’t been kidding.

You were sure that by the time he finally seemed completely spent, you weren’t able to walk. You lied sprawled over his chest, your legs tangled with his, sleepiness falling over you like a heavy blanket.

You were certain your face looked like a sad clown’s, all your make-up smeared and your hair a mess, you _knew_ you should be getting up to brush your teeth and stuff, but you couldn’t make yourself to move.

Steve’s chest was rising and falling in slow rhythm, making you wonder if he had in fact fallen asleep and was stroking your hair like in some mild form of sleepwalking.

A breathless chuckle escaped your lips at the idea, deep rumble in Steve’s ribcage responding.

“What’s so funny?” he mumbled, sounding as if he was smiling.

“Were you asleep?”

“…no.”

You chuckled once more and put the rest of your energy into stretching out your neck and placing a kiss on his jaw. The arm around your waist pulled you closer to him, his lips landing on the top of your head. You might have purred at that sensation, not that you would ever admit that out loud.

“I love you,” he whispered softly, nuzzling his nose in your hair. Your lips spread in a silly smile.

“I love you too, Steve…. We really do fit, don’t we?” you mused, happy to stay like this forever. Wrapped in his arms and in his affection.

“Yeah. We do, doll.”

You fell into content silence after that; until you giggled. “Since you love me, does that mean you’ll carry me to the bathroom so I can brush my teeth?”

He groaned, apparently as excited about the idea of getting up as you were – read _not at all._

“In five minutes?” he bargained, no doubt hypnotizing you with puppy eyes you couldn’t see.

You hummed in agreement, blissfully melting into the warmth he was radiating.

“Like I said: we fit _perfectly_.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone take my keyboard away, please. 
> 
> Feedback’s appreciated. Even harsh one, as long as it’s constructive ;)
> 
> Thank you for reading and taking time to let me know what you thought in any way :-*


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